


Analysis

by SHSL_Fangirl



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hinted Death, Only reposting this because I don't completely hate it, Reader-Insert, Romance, Swearing, The ending is bad and probably OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHSL_Fangirl/pseuds/SHSL_Fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What better way to drown your sorrows than with a nice, steaming cup of joe at WildKat? You could think of many ways...but at least you had interesting company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Analysis

He found you at Miyashita Park.

You were perched at the top of a flight of stairs, head in your hands as tears streaked down your red, swollen face. You had long since given up on trying to make them stop. You just felt empty now, anyway.

You didn't know or care how long you sat there, the dull glow of the streetlights your only companion, but you were aware when a hand rested on your shoulder.

You should have been alarmed, or even terrified, but you felt too numb to feel any kind of reaction.

You turned, slowly, to see a man sitting next to you on the stairs. His attire seemed both formal and casual at the same time. You couldn't see much of his face, through both the tears in your eyes and the sunglasses he was wearing despite the time of day. Not that it mattered anyway.

"What do you want?" Your voice was flat, though you hated the way it shook slightly at the end.

"You looked like you could use some cheering up." He gave you a warm smile.

You stood, walking away from the man. Enough had happened today already. You didn't need some strange man trying to 'cheer you up'. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to get the message.

"What's your name, kiddo?" You turned back toward him. His smile had a hint of mischief to it.

"I'm not a kid," you snapped, glaring. You cast your eyes to the side and mumbled a response. "(y/n). Not that it's any of your business."

He grinned. "Call me Mr. H."

Before you could inform him that you wouldn't need to call him anything, since there was no way you were sticking around with him, he was standing right in front of you.

"Come on, I'll take you to my café." He tugged on your arm gently.

"I don't need looking after," you snapped, but you followed him anyway. Something about the man's presence was strangely comforting.

~*~

He hadn't been lying about owning a café.

WildKat wasn't a bad place, you soon discovered, though the coffee tasted like crap. You were the only customer. Not that you minded.

"So," Mr. H began, leaning back onto the counter which you were seated on the other side of, staring into the mug with a sense of detached sadness - all that you could feel now with what was left of the person you had once been. "What's a pretty little lady like you got to be upset about?"

You looked up abruptly, scowling. "I don't need flattery."

He didn't say anything in response, just looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite place. You sighed and turned your gaze back down to the swirling liquid.

"Fine, you want to know?" You paused for a moment before continuing. "They're dead, all of them. My whole family. And it's my fault…"

Moments earlier you had been able to, in a way, disassociate yourself from the situation. You had spent so long grieving that you hadn't had any emotion left to feel miserable. But that was gone now, and it was increasingly hard to swallow around the lump in your throat as you tried to blink the tears back from your eyes.

You tried to think about something else, anything else to take the pain away...and, somehow, you found yourself picturing the face of the man before you.

Suddenly, you realised what the expression on his face had been. He was studying you. Criticising, almost. It was as though he could just look at you and every fibre of your being would expose itself for him to see. It made you feel weak. You couldn't stand that.

You stood quickly, slapping the yen to pay for the coffee on the counter. You don't know why you had let him bring you here in the first place.

You were almost to the door when you heard him speak.

"Wait." You stopped, but you didn't turn around.

"Why? So you can make me buy more of your shitty coffee? Or is it because you want to study me some more, like I'm some kind of entertainment?" Your voice shook with equal parts grief and anger.

You turned around. His expression was, for once, solemn. "You like analysing people, don't you? You think it's fun to see what makes them tick."

He seemed almost surprised at that. "You got me." He held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Well, find someone else. I'm not some kind of inferior being. Don't treat me like one." Little did you know, you were right on the mark with that one.

You heard him start to say something, but you cut him off. "This is _Shibuya_. No one gives a shit about anyone else here. So what the fuck do you want from me?"

You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"Well, you were right about one thing. I can't help but be interested in you. You have such a high Imagination." He mumbled the last part.

You blinked at him a few times. "What…?"

"Don't worry about it."

Before you even registered what was happening, he had pulled you into an embrace. You stiffened.

"What are you _doing_?" you half-shrieked, but you didn't try to pull away. For some reason, being in his arms gave you a sense of comfort you hadn't felt before.

"You're really hurting, aren't you." It wasn't a question, but a statement. One that conjured up visions of flames, and screams, and the smell of burning flesh…

Despite your best efforts, a sob escaped your lips. His arms only tightened as you cried silently. At some point, you were vaguely aware of him stroking your hair.

Eventually, your cries died down and you just felt empty again. Frozen.

"(y/n)."

You didn't respond, so he tilted your face upward. Upon seeing the look in your eyes, his own widened slightly from behind his sunglasses.

"(y/n)…" he repeated in a whisper. He sounded as sad as you felt.

When his lips met yours, unexpectedly soft against your own, you felt a spark of feeling deep within you. And, if only for a moment, you were truly happy.


End file.
